


Methos' Weekend

by pat_t



Series: Breaking Records [3]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/pseuds/pat_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos and Duncan make a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Methos' Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> : Adult content for male/male slash, violence, language, DM/M, this is a companion piece to "A New Record" and "Duncan's Weekend"

Amanda smoothed down her short black hair and gaped openly as the world's oldest immortal paced in front of her. 'Men, honestly,' she sighed to herself in exasperation.

"You know what he expects me to do?" Methos clipped in the precise British accent that was becoming more pronounced as he continued his emotional diatribe.

"Well, I--" Amanda started reasonably, only to be cut off rudely with an expressive wave of Methos' hand.

"He expects me to make him serve me for forty eight hours. Wait on me hand and foot. Selfish Methos. Only cares about himself. Only takes--doesn't know how to give."

Amanda felt her annoyance spiraling and stood, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Fine, Methos. If that's what you think, then just do it. But, Mac would never--"

Methos turned sharply to face her. "No. Of course he wouldn't," he spat sarcastically. "Mac's a caring lover. Do you know what he wanted for _his_ weekend? Hm?"

"I...." Amanda sat back down, temporarily defeated.

"Oh yes. Duncan MacLeod of the bloody Clan MacLeod. Protector, lover. Knows just what to do. Not a selfish bone in his body."

"Methos." She groaned, surprised when she actually seemed to get his attention. "We both know how MacLeod is. We also know he doesn't think you're selfish."

"Sure of that, are you?" Methos glared at her.

She looked into flashing green brown eyes and felt her irritation lessen. Standing, she placed a hand on his forearm, felt the rigidity of his tensed muscles, and squeezed reassuringly. "Yes, I am. Methos, forget about what Mac expects. What do _you_ want? It's your weekend. If you want to be pampered, ask for pampering. If you want to pamper him like he did you, then go for it. After all, that _is_ the point of your weekend, isn't it?" She took a step back and crossed her arms across her chest, feeling smugly satisfied with her reasoning.

"Manda" He sighed deeply, making that little sound of exasperation in the back of his throat that she knew so well. "That's the point. I can't win. I really do want to pamper him, but if I do, he'll think I'm just doing it because that's what he did for me."

"Then do what you think he expects. Ask him to serve your every whim for forty eight hours. Methos, you'd be crazy not to. And if you play your cards right, then...." She fanned her face with her hand to cool imaginary heat from her body.

"It would serve him right after the bloody trick he pulled on me," Methos groused while turning to pour a drink from her mini bar.

Amanda looked at him in surprise. Trick? Duncan? "Um, what kind of trick?" She licked her lips in anticipation.

"Hm? Oh." Methos laughed before taking a healthy sip of his whiskey. "Told me we were going to the cabin to do repairs for the winter. Of course, you know what he _really_ had planned, since you and Nick helped him set it up."

Amanda saw Methos smile and couldn't resist a knowing taunt. "And you loved every minute of it, old man. You may fool Duncan, but you don't fool me."

"Yeah, maybe." Methos' smile disappeared on a beat.

"Sweetie, what is it?" Amanda walked over to take his drink from his hand.

"I don't know. Nothing probably. Nothing I can put my finger on, anyway. It seems that no matter what I do, it will be anti-climatic. I just wish I had come up with something first." He looked down and studied his hands.

"Well," she mused as she took a sip of his drink. "Maybe if _we_ did something he wasn't expecting? Surprise him?"

She smiled smugly and waited, not surprised when Methos looked up at her sharply. "Amanda," he drew out her name on a breath. "What are you thinking in that devious mind?"

"Well" She laughed. "It's just an idea, but...."

~~~~~~

Amanda sat down and crossed her legs, enjoying the sensual feel of silk against her nude body. She held the phone to her ear, quirked a finely sculpted brow in amusement, and smiled. Too bad her caller couldn't see her, she mused to herself. After all, she knew she was looking damned fine in the bright red robe that accentuated her dark hair and pale, creamy skin. Even though she and Nick were together and she knew Duncan loved Methos, she also knew Duncan would still appreciate her exquisite charms.

"Duncan, calm down. _Exactly_ what did the old reprobate say?" she asked once he stopped to take a breath.

"Amanda, haven't you been listening to me?" Duncan asked in exasperation.

"Of course, darling. But, I'm having a little trouble following what you're saying. What do you mean, he's leaving you? Methos loves you."

"Well..." Duncan hesitated while seeming to sort his thoughts. "Not leaving me. Not exactly. But, it's just a matter of time."

"Duncan, I'm sorry. I just don't see it. I know he has a lot of faults, but...."

"Damn right, he does" Duncan's Scottish brogue became more pronounced as his voice rose in anger. "You should have seen him, Amanda. Standing there all calm. 'I want some time to myself for my weekend, Duncan.'"

Amanda giggled when Duncan began mimicking Methos' British accent across the line.

"'It doesn't have anything to do with us. I just want some time alone. I knew you would understand, Duncan,'" he continued to mock, seemingly oblivious to Amanda's laughter across the phone line.

"Duncan," Amanda sputtered as she fought to get her laughter under control.

"I hardly find it funny, Amanda," he groused when she hiccupped from her final bout of laughter.

"Of course it isn't, Duncan," she agreed calmly, grateful now that he couldn't see her face. "What are you really afraid of, dear?"

She heard a heavy sigh come across the line and sobered immediately. Well, maybe she could offer a little sympathy. He did, after all, sound completely miserable.

"I think he's going to leave me" He sighed again into the phone.

"Honey, I'm sure that's not what he meant."

She heard him snort and sighed heavily. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Damn, Methos. Why did you have to lay it on so thick?

"Our weekends were supposed to be fun--something for us to do together. And, now he tells me he wants his alone? What else _could_ he mean? He's already getting tired of our relationship, and I think I know why."

"Duncan...."

"No, Amanda. Let me say this, because I think it's my fault. I've been hinting around that I wanted a commitment ceremony. It was probably too much too soon. He doesn't _do_ commitment with other immortals. I knew that, but I waited too long with Tessa, and then it was too late and she was taken from me. I didn't want to make that mistake with Methos. I should have realized though, that Methos is no Tessa. He can't handle that kind of relationship with me. So, now I may be losing him anyway."

"Duncan. I'm sure that's not going to happen. Have a little faith. Look, Nick won't be here until next week and I'm just sitting around this big hotel suite by myself. Let the old grouch have his weekend. Why don't you come by and take me to dinner? We haven't had any time alone since you and Methos became an item. Besides, I miss you."

"Amanda, I'm not...." he offered hesitantly.

"Duncan!" She exclaimed with feigned shock. "I would never cheat on Nick. And I know you'd never cheat on Methos. Even though I wouldn't blame you if you did," she added confidently.

"Amanda!" Duncan admonished.

"All right, already," she added. "Point taken. Dinner only, okay?"

"All right. Dinner."

"Good. Suite 404. Why don't you come by a little early--about six o'clock. There's a man I'm supposed to meet that has an antique I need your opinion on."

"Stolen?" he chuckled.

"Of course not. You know I don't do that anymore." She heard an amused snort come over the line, and grinned.

"All right, Amanda. Six then."

~~~~~~

Amanda felt immortal presence and smiled. 'Show time.' With a shift of her hips, she turned and tugged at her tight black dress until she was satisfied with the sleek fit against her otherwise naked skin.

She threw the door open and grinned appreciatively at the handsome man standing on the other side. "Duncan." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

"Amanda." He pushed her gently away and returned her smile. "You promised," he reminded her.

"Don't be a prude," she teased while pulling him into the room. "I love someone else too, but that doesn't mean I can't kiss an old friend when I want to." She stood aside and watched him walk into the room, openly admiring his muscled physique. Damn, the man was gorgeous.

Tonight he had worn black linen slacks and a deep red silk shirt. He had left his dark hair down loose around his shoulders the way she had always liked it. The way _Methos_ had always liked it.

He turned to face her. "Where did you want to have dinner?"

"Well...." She slid up next to him and stroked his chest, giggling when he caught her slender wrist in his hand. "All right." She backed away with a shrug and quirked a brow. "I hope you don't mind, but the man we were supposed to meet tonight couldn't make it into town due to a prior commitment. But he has agreed to still meet with us if...we...can...come to him" She paused between each word to give a slow caressing feel to her voice.

Duncan looked at her suspiciously and released her wrist. "Where?"

"Just a little ways outside of town, Duncan. I've already arranged for a car, and I thought we could have dinner there. If that's okay?" she added slyly in the pretext of giving him a choice. In actuality, she knew he had lost control of the situation the minute he had walked through the door. She suspected he knew it too, but what was the harm in pretending otherwise?

She put on her most innocent face and looked him in the eyes, relieved when he finally smiled.

"All right, Amanda. Let's go then." He took her arm and walked her towards the door, stopping at the couch while she slipped on her coat and grabbed her purse. "What kind of antiques do you need my appraisal on? You have a good eye for these things."

"Oh, it's a little hard to describe, but very old."

~~~~~~

Duncan looked at Amanda and scowled. The little vixen was up to something and he certainly didn't trust her not to pull him right into the middle of it.

"Duncan, stop scowling," she warned coolly.

He glowered and started to reply, only to have his attention suddenly diverted as they neared a rustic three story building. Duncan looked out the car window and noted the hanging sign at the end of the drive.

"We're here," she told him, and he was sure he heard relief in her voice.

"Amanda, are you sure this man is expecting us?"

She turned to him and smiled coyly, which in turn drove his suspicion up another notch.

"Of course, darling. Trust me. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

He looked at her incredulously, and opened his mouth to respond, only to be stopped by her hand as it clamped across his mouth.

"Recently?" she corrected sweetly before removing her hand.

"You really _don't_ want me to answer that, do you?" he asked blandly.

"Lighten up, already," she admonished. The car had stopped and she tugged him out by his arm.

Duncan looked up at the simple clean lines of the three-story inn, its white siding trimmed with black molding. Black shutters accentuated the windows overlooking the courtyard, with a sturdy double oak door centered in-between.

They walked through the front door into a large rustic room. The first thing he noticed was the warmth of the room, the red brick walls, with a large fireplace overwhelming the entire north wall. A fire was crackling, sending warmth into the room, and playing shadows across the brick in the dim lighting. The floor was covered in a deep red carpet. The room was filled with large overstuffed furniture of warm reds and gold. All in all, the room was warm and cozy, giving him the feeling of being welcomed into someone's home.

The second thing he noticed was that the inn was surprisingly empty. No one was loitering in the comfortable looking room. As a matter of fact, the only person visible upon entering the building was the lone clerk standing behind the large polished oak counter. The man nodded towards him as he entered--the only sign he was given that his presence was acknowledged. He nodded back and turned towards a set of elevators situated to the right of the front desk.

He started towards them until he was stopped by a touch of Amanda's hand on his arm.

"Duncan. I need to call Nick. Do you mind being a dear and going on up? He's expecting us. Room two-ten."

"Amanda...." He hesitated.

"Thanks," she said hurriedly with a kiss to his cheek, and then she was gone, her cell phone clutched in her hand.

He shook his head and smiled fondly. Only Amanda could keep him so off balance. Only? No, amend that to only one of _two_ people who could keep him _so_ off balance. And he frowned with fresh pain as he thought of his lover.

The elevator bell brought him out of his reverie, and he frowned anew when he looked for Amanda, only to see that she had disappeared. He stepped inside and jabbed irritably at the elevator controls, scowling once again as the door snapped shut.

Scant minutes later he was treading down the hall towards the room in question until immortal presence slammed into him, strong and thrumming, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He reached into his coat and grasped the hilt of his sword before resuming his steps toward the door. He stood, his body tense, and knocked loudly, listening for acknowledgment within. When none came, he knocked again, louder this time, then placed his hand securely on the door knob. Slipping his katana out of its sheath, he turned the knob and eased open the door.

Had he and Amanda been set up?

He sliced the air with his blade, bringing it up defensively in front of his body to deflect a possible blow--and froze as the familiar baritone bellowed from within the room.

"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."

Dropping the point of his katana towards the floor, he stalked into the room until he was standing face to face with the other immortal. "Methos," he said softly, then his speech was stolen in a kiss that left him breathless.

~~~~~~

Duncan wasn't sure exactly what happened after that. One minute he was standing in the middle of the room with his lover's tongue stroking inside his mouth and the next he was lying on the bed, completely naked, being driven out of his mind with pleasure.

He was, in fact, past all coherent thought as Methos' wicked tongue danced and flicked around his anus while his equally talented hand stroked Duncan's erect cock. Duncan was vaguely aware that he was rotating his hips in a slow undulation that brought his ass up to Methos' mouth, followed by a swift descent of his cock into the waiting fist.

He heard himself moan, a low throaty sound that filled the air to mingle with the passion filled groans of his lover. He continued to rotate his hips, thrusting, seeking relief, lost totally to the sensation of a hot wet tongue, a warm long fingered hand wrapped solidly around his throbbing length. He could feel himself spiraling towards orgasm, as the pressure built to a peak in his cock and balls. Somewhere in the still coherent part of his mind, he was aware that he wasn't returning pleasure to his partner. Then long fingers were spreading him open and that talented tongue was flicking inside him. Methos' hand tightened around his cock, stroking him faster and harder and he ground his ass against the tongue fucking him. Then the tongue was gone and a long slick finger was there instead, pressing inwards, stroking, searching, finding.... And he was screaming as heat shot through his body to settle in his cock. He tensed, his muscles locked in place by the impending explosion as he grimaced and clenched his teeth, until he was crying out once again as his cock pulsed and released his essence.

He had slumped forward onto the bed, a lethargic heap of sated flesh, when he felt the long hard body of his lover cover his back. Even harder was the length of wet, pulsing cock pressing into the crack of his butt cheeks. He shifted his legs to open his thighs, and sucked in a deep breath as he was breached with the beloved organ. Methos had taken him with one smooth slide of his cock and he was seated fully inside, his balls pressing against Duncan's ass. Duncan shifted his hips backwards, grinding his ass against Methos' pubis, and clenched his internal muscles around the cock in his body.

Then he was being almost brutally fucked as his lover pounded his ass again and again. He reached up, grateful for the ornate wooden bars making up the headboard, and grabbed hold tightly to give Methos leverage. He felt the crushing grip of Methos' hands on his hips and grunted as his hips were suddenly jerked upwards into the air. Duncan pushed his face into his pillow and moaned with every forceful thrust, until Methos' cock slid across his gland and he jerked and screamed, grasping the headboard tighter until his knuckles were white from the tension of his grip. His own cock was throbbing once again, and he shivered from the overload of sensation.

Duncan was being pounded hard and fast, every stroke pressing across his sensitive gland and spiraling him towards completion. He was shivering, his muscles tense, his body shaking. It was too much and yet not enough. He felt Methos' fingers dig into his flesh harder, heard the primal growl that signaled his lover's climax, and grasped the headboard tighter, not surprised when his own orgasm ripped through him as his lover's last thrust pushed into his prostate hard, frozen there while Methos' cock pulsed out his release.

Duncan was in the throes of his own climax--the sweet release from the tension in his cock--when he heard a loud noise, a giving way, and a section of the headboard tore loose from its frame. The loss of his leverage caused Duncan to suddenly fall forwards, carrying Methos with him across his back, a heaving mass of sweat and semen. He felt rather than heard the rumbling of his lover's laughter and he brought his head up from the pillow to look around. The broken section of headboard was still clutched in his hand, and he felt the cold stickiness of his own climax under his belly and his lover's weight across his back.

Duncan used his greater weight to push up and dislodge his still laughing partner from his back. Tossing the piece of broken wood to the floor, he rolled over to face Methos. "That was wonderful," he sighed before falling back onto the mattress.

"Yeah, it was," Methos agreed, still laughing until Duncan leaned over him once again and demanded his mouth in a searing kiss.

Afterwards, they lay very still, listening to the quiet with the sated lethargy of the well fucked. Duncan grinned wickedly and turned towards his partner.

"What?" Methos asked with a chuckle.

"I was just thinking," Duncan said with amusement. "I guess you're the antique I was supposed to be appraising for Amanda tonight."

"Hm, yeah, I guess I am. So, do I pass muster?"

"Well," Duncan hesitated as he pretended to look over his acquisition carefully. He pulled back the covers and reached down to take the soft penis in his hand, giving it a gentle shake before laying it back down. "I guess you'll do. A little old and moldy, could use a good washing up, maybe a little work there, but...." Duncan yelped with feigned outrage and laughter as he was pounced upon by his naked partner.

"I'll show you moldy." Methos growled at him. And then he lost all coherent thought as his mouth was ravaged once again.

~~~~~~

Duncan walked into their room and sat on the bed, picking up the black silk pajama bottoms Methos had given him the previous night.

_  
They had made love once again until they had fallen into one another's arms exhausted. Until, that is, Duncan's stomach had decided to protest loudly._

_"Bloody hell." Methos had groaned when he heard the growling emit from Duncan's abdomen. "You haven't eaten yet, have you? Well, I can fix that." With that, Methos had grabbed the phone and ordered up the meal he had already prearranged for them earlier. That done, he jumped from the bed and opened a bureau drawer to pull out two sets of silk pajamas. "Here." He handed the black silk to Duncan. "Put these on. Food will be here soon."_

_Duncan stood up and dressed, loving the feel of the sensuous material against his body. "We smell like a brothel, Methos. Shouldn't we shower before room service gets here?"_

_"Why? Are you embarrassed?" Methos looked up at him quizzically while slipping on his own dark hunter green pajamas._

_"Of course not," Duncan defended while tying the drawstring around his waist._

_"Good, then, don't be in such a hurry, Highlander. I'm not. I don't want to wash you off me just yet. There's something sexy about the heady musk of lovemaking, don't you think? Hm?" Methos walked over to Duncan and flicked out his tongue to stroke across Duncan's lips._

_"Definitely." Duncan sighed, taking a deep breath to inhale their combined scent, the musk of spent sex and male sweat, and he had to admit that it was intoxicating._

_They had eaten, and then Methos had surprised him by pulling out a portable CD player. Then they were dancing in one another's arms, the slow sensual music drifting around them while they swayed together in the middle of the room. They removed their pajama tops, leaving only the silk to cover their lower bodies while their hard muscled chests pressed together. Slow sensuous kisses led to a slower sway of their bodies, and they had pressed closer, their cocks hardening and pressing against the silk confines of their pajamas._

_It wasn't long before they were back in bed, forgotten silk tossed to the floor, while their bodies continued to sway to a different dance, the slow sensuous music still drifting in the air._

_They had spent the morning being lazy, sleeping in, and giving one another slow massages during an extended shower. He was pleasantly surprised when Methos brought out clothes from an extra suitcase he had packed for Duncan. Evidently, Methos had been planning this trip for some time, and the thought that he had gone to so much effort made Duncan inexplicably happy. Then Methos had taken him out onto the inn's grounds, through a lovely garden, and out to a small lake. They had spent the rest of the afternoon just _being_ , the quiet of the little inn's grounds a peaceful oasis from the rest of the world._

_Finally, Methos had taken his hand and led them back to their room, stopping outside their door to give him instructions. "Duncan, I have something I need to check on. Go on inside and wait for me."_

_Duncan looked at him suspiciously. "What are you planning, Methos?"_

_A smile graced Methos' mouth, which did nothing to quell Duncan's sudden suspicion. "My weekend, Highlander. In the room, now," he growled, pointing to the door._

_Noting the playfulness in Methos' tone, Duncan grinned and saluted. "Yes, sir."_

_He laughed out loud when he opened the door and heard his lover mumbling under his breath as he walked away. "No respect...."  
_  
~~~~~~

Duncan placed the silk pajamas back on the bed and sighed. What was his unpredictable partner up to now? Before he could contemplate the thought further, the phone rang.

"MacLeod."

He smiled when his lover's voice came across the line without preamble, stern and to the point. "Look in the bedside drawer. There's a key to room two-twelve. Go there now. Change into the clothes I've left for you and wait." The phone disconnected quickly, leaving Duncan holding the receiver, his mouth open to respond, and listening to a dial tone. _What the hell?_

With a shrug, he made a quick decision, opened the drawer and found the key. He stepped out into the hall, once again mentally noting the lack of other patrons and extreme quiet of the halls. Room two-twelve was next door. He slid the key into the lock and opened the door once he heard the corresponding 'click.' The room was dark except for a large assortment of lit candles set about the room, throwing a cast of soft light and shadows across the walls. He reached for the light switch and flicked it on and off several times, sighing heavily when nothing happened. Adjusting his eyes to the darkened room, he made his way carefully to the windows and drew back a heavy curtain, allowing a soft glow from the evening sunset to fill the room.

Now that he could see more clearly, he turned to survey the room, and smiled widely. There was no furniture in this room save a large table covered with red silk and an assortment of various other _'items'._ There were several small stands set about the room which held the lit candles and extra matches. He walked over to the table and reached for the clothing, laughing when he unfolded a pair of crotchless leather pants. Setting next to the pants had been a pair of black leather boots, which were unsurprisingly just his size. He was still chuckling when he buckled the matching black leather belt and slipped on his boots. The pants molded to his ass like a second skin, accentuating his cheeks while the crotchless front gave testimony to the state of his arousal as his cock quivered with tense excitement and his balls hung exposed and heavy underneath.

He folded up his clothes and set them aside with disinterest as he began to survey the other items on the table. He stopped and picked up each item, turning it in his hand while examining it closely. He picked up a set of nipple clamps which appeared to be sterling silver, the sharp claws biting painfully as he tested them with his finger. He grinned and put them down, moving on to the next item.

He picked up what appeared to be a leather cock ring fitted with snaps, attached to a leather cylinder which would stretch the scrotum and force the balls down. Attached to this was an additional strap to separate the balls. He turned it over in his hands, grinning wider when he noted the silver D ring attached to the separator. He set the cock ring down and ran his hands over the slim silver leash.

Moving on, he picked up a flogger, noting the long wooden handle, with almost a foot of soft suede strands. He caressed the strands absently before setting it down to move on to a rubber whip with a long rubber handle and long thin latex strings for its tail. He picked it up, tested his grip, then snapped it across his own forearm to get a feel for its sting. Satisfied, he set it down to pick up a round leather paddle. He turned it over only to discover that the other side was made of wood, with a red star carved in the center. He shook his head in wonderment and set it down.

Next to this was a pair of soft leather restraints lined with faux fur. He picked one up to examine, then set it aside quickly, laughing out loud when he spotted the long slender vibrator with its own remote control. Placing the vibrator in his palm, he pressed a button on the remote, laughing again when the phallus began to vibrate gently in his grasp. Next to this was a bottle of lubricant. Placing the vibrator aside, he looked around the rest of the room.

In the center of the room was a heavy chain suspended from a ceiling beam. He reached for it, yanked gently, and examined the end fittings. Satisfied they would fit easily into the D rings on the leather restraints, he moved on to the only other piece of equipment in the room. On the far side of the room was a waist high gym horse covered in red leather. Gliding over to the horse, he traced the leather with his hand and thought about his lover.

Methos had first brought up sex play several months ago. First it was a book which he left conspicuously at their bedside. Then it was a series of videos that Methos had brought home for them to watch. They had lain in bed on many nights watching the videos, discussing the different scenarios. Duncan knew Methos had been feeling him out and he had to admit that he found the videos arousing. He wasn't surprised, then, when Methos asked him to play along. So far their sex play had only consisted of mild bondage and spanking, and Duncan had always taken the role as the dominant partner. But now it appeared that his partner was ready for more. And if the throbbing in his cock was any indication, Duncan knew he was too.

~~~~~~

Duncan felt his lover's presence before he heard him at the door. Turning, he waited, until the door opened and Methos slipped inside, wearing a dark green robe that cascaded down his body to sweep the floor when he walked. He shut the door and slipped off the robe, revealing his naked arousal underneath. Duncan watched him cross the room until he was standing before him, his head bowed submissively, while his cock bobbed in the air at full attention.

Duncan allowed himself a grin before schooling his features to the stern countenance he knew Methos expected. He very quickly reviewed the discussions they had had while watching the tapes together-- the trust involved between the two men in the scene--what each of them should expect. Suddenly, he realized what Methos was offering him--trust that Duncan would not hurt him, to keep him safe, and he reveled in the love and responsibility he felt for his partner.

He led Methos into the room next to the table and instructed him to lift his arms straight out in front of him. Methos immediately complied and Duncan fastened the leather wrist restraints on him. Next he moved him towards the center of the room, and instructed him to raise his arms. Duncan hooked the ends of the overhead chain into the D rings in the cuffs, noting appreciatively how Methos' chest was thrust out, the tiny pink nipples already puckering and hard.

Duncan ran a hand over the flexed muscles of Methos' chest, stopping to pinch and rub at each nipple, then continued downward over the taut muscles of Methos' abdomen. Methos' cock was standing straight up, its head already leaking with excitement. Duncan purposely ignored the excited organ and pulled back with a smile. Methos still had his head bowed and that would never do. One of the things Duncan enjoyed most during their lovemaking was the way his lover's eyes darkened with lust, how they deepened to a smoky green right before he came.

"Look at me," he ordered gently. He was still smiling when his lover lifted his head and met his gaze. Duncan looked into deep green eyes and dropped his facade. "I love you."  
Methos blinked, but did not speak.

Thinking back to some of their earlier discussions about the scenes, Duncan remembered that Methos could not answer him without permission to speak. Which brought up another point he remembered about the tapes. "You may speak," he instructed the other man softly.

"I know. I love you too," Methos replied softly once permission had been granted, then immediately fell back into silence.

Duncan smiled at the returned proclamation and reached out to stroke Methos' cheek gently. "Aren't you supposed to have a safe-word?"

Methos' mouth quirked up in a smug grin. "Don't think I'll need one. You wouldn't hurt me, would you?"

Duncan laughed. "Brat. But, if you tell me to stop, I will. Immediately. No questions asked. If that's not what you want, you'd better tell me now."

Duncan watched as Methos nodded and quirked a brow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "What if I say _'stop, you sheep fucking Scot?'"_

Duncan laughed and kissed him on the nose. "I'd whip you harder. Okay, no more talking." Duncan went back to the table and picked up the cock ring. He placed it around his lover's cock, then carefully slipped the leather strap around and between his balls. Next he picked up the nipple clamps and brought them over to Methos. He bent down to his lover's nipples and licked each one, flicking his tongue over the little nubs until he was satisfied they were sensitive and ready. He placed a clamp on each nipple, wincing when he saw the tiny claws bite into the tender skin. Methos did not flinch, however, and satisfied that he wasn't in any undue distress, he left them in place.

He went over and picked up the vibrator and applied a thick coating of lube. Seeing that the chain was attached by a pulley around the ceiling beam, he walked around to Methos' back and instructed him to open his legs and bend forward. Methos obeyed without question, giving Duncan easy access to his anus. Duncan pressed into the puckered opening with a lubed finger and began to gently fuck it in and out, taking the time to stretch as well as stimulate. Satisfied that his lover was ready, he eased the long slender vibrator into his lover's ass. Duncan looked at Methos' perfect butt, the end of the vibrator sticking out obscenely from his anus, and smiled appreciatively. God, the man was beautiful. "Stand up," Duncan told him smoothly. He watched as Methos straightened, then walked around to face him once again.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

"Yes, master."

_Master._ Duncan liked the sound of that. He felt the thrill of anticipation burn through his body, aware that his own cock was achingly hard, and threw back his shoulders, increasing the girth of his chest. He smiled widely, then almost chortled when he caught the look of warning in Methos' eyes. _Don't worry, lover. I know this is just a game._

He reached for the suede flogger and picked it up. Slowly circling Methos' body, he brought the soft suede down with a gentle 'thump'. First he struck his chest, then his back, working around his body, increasing the pressure of his strokes as he did. He knew the suede wouldn't hurt; it was just to warm him up for the heavier play later. He struck Methos' left breast, then the right, knowing he was stimulating the pain in Methos' nipples from the clamps. Moving down to his ass, he struck gently against Methos' bound penis and scrotum, then several more times against his tender inner thighs. Satisfied with the warm flush on his lover's skin, he replaced the flogger and picked up the whip.

He stood in front of Methos and let him see the whip. Methos nodded his head approvingly, and Duncan smiled. He moved behind Methos and struck his back, alternating with soft and hard lashes until he had worked his way down to his lover's ass. He striped the rounded cheeks over and over, aware that each stroke against the vibrator pushed it further into Methos' ass and across his prostate. Methos was jerking slightly with every strike, a low moan escaping every time the strands stung his ass. Duncan heard his lover's moans, felt his own cock throb in response, and set down the whip.

Duncan stood by the table and observed his partner in silence. They were both covered in sweat, their breaths coming fast and hard. Duncan's blood was strumming with testosterone, his body throbbing from power and lust, and he purposely took slow deep breaths to bring himself back under control. Methos was depending on him for his safety, and with sudden alarm, he realized how easy it could be to lose control, to let the heady sense of power take over.

Duncan studied Methos' intently. He saw no distress there, only passion, Methos' hazel eyes almost black with lust while his chest heaved, and he pulled against the chains in an instinctual desire to reach his aching cock. Dropping to his knees in front of his lover's cock, Duncan took it into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the head. He sucked and lapped, flicking his tongue into the leaking slit before moving upwards until his lips encountered the leather cock ring. He started a rhythmic sucking, taking the engorged penis back into his throat before working back up to the throbbing head. He allowed Methos to thrust unfettered, until he felt the tension in his lover's body that signaled impending climax and he pulled back, releasing the organ from his mouth.

He stood, meeting his lover's murderous glare, and laughed. "Not yet, lover." With that, Duncan reached up and released Methos' wrist restraints from the chain, allowing him to bring his arms down in front of his body. Duncan took a few minutes to massage the stressed muscles of Methos' arms before taking the smaller silver chain and attaching it to the D ring on Methos' scrotum strap. He pulled on the chain, and tugged his partner over to the leather covered horse.

He had Methos bend over the horse, facing the wall, which left his beautiful ass exposed, open and completely vulnerable. Duncan reached for the remote control and turned it on low, smiling when he heard the buzz coming from his lover's asshole. Duncan saw Methos begin to squirm against the leather and knew he was trying to gain the friction against his cock that he needed to come. He grabbed the undulating hips in a bruising grip. "Be still," he demanded. "You don't have permission to move."

Methos stilled immediately, and Duncan stilled with him. They were both gasping for breath, their bodies covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Duncan felt his own cock throb and demand attention, and he silently willed it to a less needy ache as he caressed Methos' flank reassuringly. Once he felt they were both back under control, he stepped away and retrieved the leather paddle. He turned it over to the wooden side with the star and struck a pale ass cheek, delighted when the reddened outline of a star appeared on the tender skin.

He struck again and again, careful to not hit the vibrator with the wooden paddle. Duncan continued to strike until both cheeks were flaming red, and he could feel the distress radiating off his partner. His own body was broadcasting an end to its own tolerance, and he threw down the paddle and reached for his partner's ass cheeks. Dropping to his knees, Duncan kissed the burning flesh again and again, stopping only to shut off the vibrator and remove it.

"Duncan."

Duncan heard the needy moan and went for the lube, not stopping until he was standing behind his lover with his cock glistening from lube and precome. He inserted his cock into Methos' ass, grabbed hold of his hips and began to thrust. He felt rather than saw Methos grab hold of the horse and hold on as Duncan banged against his reddened ass again and again. Feeling his balls tighten, Duncan tensed and wrapped his arms around Methos' chest, bringing him off the horse and against Duncan's chest. He held on tightly and continued to thrust, even as he ground out between clenched teeth to his mate: "Touch yourself, Methos."

Methos wrapped a hand around his cock and began to stroke, meeting the frenzied rhythm of Duncan's thrusts. Duncan slammed against him hard, once, twice and then he was coming, shooting his seed inside his lover. He felt Methos' tense and cry out, and held onto the shaking man tightly while he found his own release.

Duncan's breathing began to ease and he reached around the sweaty, trembling man he still held in his arms. Grasping the leather around Methos' spent cock, he released the snaps until he was freed from its confinement. He heard the satisfied moan he both knew and loved, and chuckled into the short sweaty hair under his cheek. Duncan heard a chuckle in return and kissed the damp hair tenderly.

~~~~~~

Duncan and Methos slipped back to their own room amid laughter and heated kisses. When they entered, Duncan noted the dinner tray already in their room, and went over to survey its contents. "When did you get this?" He turned towards his lover who was lounging against the bathroom door watching him.

"Ordered it while you were getting ready. Thought something light would be nice after...." Methos' voice trailed off as if there were no reason to state the obvious.

Duncan looked at the assortment of fruits and cheeses and nodded appreciatively. "It's perfect." He picked up and examined the Merlot already open and breathing next to the tray and poured them each a glass. "Here." He handed Methos a glass of wine and followed him into the bathroom. He waited until Methos turned on the water and added the bath salts before stripping off his clothes.

They settled into the water, Methos' back against the tub, and Duncan's back against Methos' chest. Duncan breathed in the spicy scents from the bath, picked up the tangy scent of their combined come and sweat and smiled in contentment. He felt a warm breath whisper against his ear.

"Happy?"

"Ummm," he answered, closing his eyes and laying his head against Methos' shoulder.

They were both silent for a moment for which Duncan was thankful since he needed the comfort of the hot water and his lover's arms while he came down from the endorphins still strumming through his body from their sex play. He knew it wasn't hard core by true bondage standards, but it was still new to him and Methos. He had to admit, to himself, at least, that he had been scared of hurting his partner and shocked by how excited he had become when he did.

"You want to talk about it?" The question echoed loudly in the small bathroom and Duncan jerked once in surprise until soothing hands stroked his chest and a kiss stole a drop of moisture from his neck.

"Yeah, I guess we'd better," he answered with a sigh.

"How did you feel during?" Methos let the question hang and continued to stroke Duncan's chest.

Duncan turned his head to see his lover's face. "You mean while I whipped you?"

"Yes, that."

Duncan took a deep breath and settled back against Methos' chest. "Scared. We've never done anything like that before."

"Did you like it?" Methos asked in a timid voice. He picked up a sponge and began to wash Duncan's chest.

"Yeah, I did. How about you? You're the one who got whipped. Do you honestly like that, Methos?"

"I do. I mean, I've never gone very far with it before. I couldn't. I've never trusted anyone that much. Duncan, I know you've watched a few videos with me, but do you really understand what happens in a scene like the one we attempted?"

"I think so. I know the one getting whipped--"

"The sub," Methos supplied.

"The sub," Duncan agreed, shaking his head affirmatively while moving slightly away from Methos while his back was being soothed and washed. "I know the sub has to trust his partner. They have to agree on the scene beforehand. Know what the other one wants, what they are each capable of."

Methos finished rinsing off Duncan's back and pressed him back against his chest once again while sliding the sponge down a muscled arm. "What we did today was really just play. In a true bondage scene, we would have sat down and talked about everything. Mutual consent and trust are imperative. If we do decide to do S&M, there is quite a bit more involved than just that."

"Such as?" Duncan lifted up and turned to look his lover in the face.

Methos kissed him lightly on the lips and began washing Duncan's other arm as he answered his question. "Have you ever heard about subspace?"

"Yes, I think so," Duncan offered, then turned once again to rest against his lover's chest.

"Yes, well in a true scene a sub wants to get to a place inside his head where he can be truly submissive, feel the pain, let his body fly from the endorphins once they are released. That place in his head is called subspace, Duncan. That's where I want to be once you feel comfortable enough in your role. I've never been able to go there before, not completely anyway."

"Why not?" Duncan asked more casually than he actually felt.

"Because, to be able to do that, the sub has to trust his partner explicitly. Don't forget, the sub is tied up and completely vulnerable to his partner. He has to trust that the other person will only do what they have agreed on. And, it's a huge responsibility for the partner. He's has to be able to read his partner's cues and know if he's getting into trouble, because once the sub is totally submerged into subspace in his own head, he may not be able to communicate those things. Not effectively at least. And being an immortal, and being tied up and vulnerable, well...." Methos let the sentence hang and shrugged his shoulders.

"You trust me that much?" Duncan asked in awe.

"That and more, Duncan," came the simple answer and Duncan smiled.

"What about a safe word? The tapes said they were a good idea."

"You really think I need one?" Methos sounded amused.

"Couldn't hurt."

"All right, then. What do you suggest?"

"Hell, I don't know, Methos. Something simple though."

"Yes, I agree. The simpler the better. Some people use colors like red for stop for instance."

Duncan lifted up and reached for the glass of wine he had placed on the rim of the tub. He took a sip before a wet hand slipped around and cupped his on the glass, redirecting it to Methos' mouth instead. He set down the glass of wine and once again melted into his lover's embrace.

"Ummm," Duncan heard Methos moan before the pliant body behind him slipped further into the water, taking Duncan with him. "Heaven," came the dreamy voice and Duncan had to agree as he closed his eyes and drifted off into a light sleep.

~~~~~~

Duncan woke to bright sunlight that filtered through the windows and splayed across the bed. His lover was in his arms, still sleeping soundly and he smiled with contentment. They had dozed until the cooling water had woken them, then climbed out of the tub, water logged and laughing. That led them back to bed, where they ate cheese and fruit, got slightly tipsy from the wine, and ended up making love until they fell asleep exhausted in one another's arms.

Now, he looked at the sleeping face of the man he loved, and traced a gentle finger over each feature as he set it to memory in his mind. With a delicate touch he traced the smooth forehead, noting the closed eyelids with long dark eyelashes that feathered against the pale skin. He lovingly traced down the perfect nose, giving it a gentle tap at the tip before caressing a sculpted cheekbone with the palm of his hand.

He felt movement against him, and knew Methos was rousing from sleep. "Good morning," he supplied cheerfully to the waking body.

"Morning." Methos kissed Duncan's chest where it rested against his cheek. "What time is it, Mac?"

"Nearly ten. Why? Got plans?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Methos sat up, looking instantly more awake. "Up, Highlander. We need to get last night's lovemaking off our bodies. Besides, I promised you I would wash your hair this morning."

Duncan looked at Methos suspiciously. _What was the old man up to now?_ But Methos had already hopped out of bed and was motioning for him impatiently.

"Come on," Methos yelled over his shoulder while heading for the bathroom.

Duncan smiled, his curiosity piqued, and jumped up to join Methos in the bathroom.

~~~~~~

Duncan stepped out of the shower and dried off before wrapping the towel firmly around his hips. Methos had pulled on a pair of dark green boxers before stepping up to comb through his short dark hair.

"Here." Methos motioned for Duncan to be still while he ran a comb through his hair, untangling the long strands before combing it back from his face. "Sit." Methos motioned to the chair in front of the mirror with his comb.

"What's going on, Methos?" Duncan asked while watching his lover cautiously.

Methos quirked a brow and leaned into Duncan's personal space. "My weekend, MacLeod."

Duncan frowned, but he sat down as instructed, and watched as Methos turned on his hot lather machine and grabbed Duncan's travel kit. He pulled out Duncan's straight razor, set it down on the counter, then placed the kit in Duncan's lap. Duncan held onto the kit and watched as Methos squirted a large glob of thick hot shaving cream out into his hand before smoothing it on Duncan's face.

Duncan smiled widely, until the razor stopped in mid air and his lover admonished him sternly. "Stop smiling, Mac. I can't shave you like that."

With effort, Mac schooled his features, closing his eyes to concentrate on all the sensations flooding his senses. The lather was warm against his skin, the spicy smell tantalizing his nostrils. He could feel the heat from his lover's body pressing from behind as the cooling air in the bathroom sent goose-bumps up his arms and legs. Methos' presence was a low strum down his spine, sending a tingle across his nerve endings.

He let his mind wander as his lover began to carefully pull the razor across his face. He felt the razor scrape across his skin, and drifted into a meditative state, enjoying the sweet ache of near arousal that wove around them. _Until_ he felt a prickling of disharmony reaching into his calm, and he opened his eyes.

He watched Methos in the mirror, noting the look of concentration on his face, and became concerned. "Is something bothering you, Methos?"

"Hm?" Methos looked up into the mirror to meet Mac's eyes. "No, not really. We do need to talk in a bit. It's all right, Duncan. Really. Just be still and let me do this."

Duncan sat very still, a very real frown creasing the skin between his eyes, as his lover very carefully and gently shaved his face. Every once in a while their eyes would meet in the mirror and Methos would offer him a timid smile. He smiled in return, feeling the caressing touch of his lover's fingers as he touched his face, before once again resuming the task before him. Once done, the residual shaving cream was wiped away and his face was splashed with his favorite aftershave.

They walked into the bedroom and Duncan picked up his briefs and put them on. He was reaching for his clothes when he felt a touch on his arm, and he turned to meet Methos' gaze. "Come sit down, Duncan. I have something to ask you."

"Sounds ominous," he replied while being led over to the bed and pushed down gently to a sitting position.

"No, not really," Methos said with a nervous laugh. He sat next to Duncan and took his hand. "Duncan, do you think I haven't noticed all the little clues you've left around the loft? All the little hints?"

Duncan frowned and thought hard. _What the hell was Methos talking about?_

"The books and articles on marriage ceremonies for gays," Methos supplied helpfully when Duncan did not answer.

Duncan felt himself flush and a fine sheen of sweat broke out all over his body. _Oh. Those hints. Those clues._

"Father Luther from the Catholic Church came to one of our boring little fund raisers last month. He asked me if we had picked which ceremony we wanted. He went into great detail telling me about the ones you had asked about." Methos continued to talk, which was a relief since Duncan couldn't seem to make his own tongue work at the moment. "Bloody interesting, I thought, since the Catholic Church doesn't condone alternative lifestyles."

"Methos, I--" Duncan interrupted, but ran out of words quickly.

"What? Why did you not ask me, Duncan? Did you change your mind?"

"Of course not!" Duncan bellowed with certainty.  
Purposefully lowering his voice, he met his lover's eyes. "Methos, I just wasn't sure how you would react. You've always said that you wouldn't commit to one of us. And, when I left the articles around, and you didn't take the bait and ask me about them, I guess I--"

"Chickened out," Methos supplied helpfully.

Duncan gulped and shook his head affirmatively."Yeah."

He looked up and felt a swift flash of relief when Methos smiled widely and took him in his arms. "Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. You will face the most fierce of our kind, but you were too scared to ask me to commit?"

"That's about the size of it." He chuckled into Methos' shoulder until he was pushed gently away and Methos got up from the bed to squat at Duncan's feet.

Methos took his hand and looked up into his face. "Will you commit to me, Duncan MacLeod?"

Duncan stared down at his lover incredulously, then broke out into laughter as he pulled the other man up into his arms.

"Is that a yes? Ummphh." Duncan broke off Methos' words with a fierce kiss that left them both too breathless for speech.

~~~~~~

"Here, wear these," Methos instructed as he pulled out a pair of slacks from the closet.

Duncan put the pair of jeans back into the bureau drawer and reached for the expensive black linen slacks Methos held out to him instead. He raised a brow in question as he took the slacks off the hanger and slipped them on. "Methos--"

"Here." A white silk shirt was pushed into Duncan's hands which he slipped on and tucked into his pants. He buckled his belt absentmindedly as he watched his lover dress.

Methos had slipped on a dark green silk shirt and a pair of black linen pants that matched Duncan's. He fastened his cuffs and turned to go into the bathroom.

Duncan watched him retreat and shook his head. For the hundredth time that weekend, he wondered what the hell his lover was up to. He pulled back his hair into a silver Celtic clasp, then stood very still when the whisper of Methos' voice drifted out of the bathroom. Who was he calling from his cell phone in the bathroom? Why was it a secret? And, more importantly, why had Methos insisted that they dress up for a walk in the garden and an early dinner? Not that he was complaining, exactly. He enjoyed dressing up. And, it was an unusual treat to see Methos wearing something besides his well worn jeans and over large sweaters.

His contemplation was cut short when Methos came out of the bathroom with a look of wide eyed innocence that set all of Duncan's alarms ringing.

"Ready?" Methos turned to him as he reached for the door knob.

Duncan smiled and followed him out of the room. "Anytime, old man. Anytime," he muttered as he stepped out into the hall and reached for Methos' hand.

~~~~~~

The elevator had barely begun its descent when Duncan felt the strong power of multiple immortal presence. He looked over at Methos who seemed oblivious to the strum of danger as it engulfed them in its folds. He reached for his Katana, which was sheathed inside the lining of his leather jacket. "Methos," he murmured in warning, as he pressed his lover back with a touch of his hand when the elevator doors slid open. He stepped into the foyer and looked around, surprised when all he found was an empty hotel lobby.

Methos stepped around him and touched his wrist. "Put it away, Mac. It's all right. I invited a few friends."

Duncan stared at Methos in stunned disbelief as he slipped his sword back into its sheath. "Friends?"

Methos grinned at his lover in amusement. "Yes, friends. As in _don't_ want to take our heads. As in opposite of enemy."

Duncan snorted. "I know what friend means, Methos." He leaned closer and lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "What I mean is, I don't believe you of all people invited _immortal_ friends here this weekend."

"Ah, but I have a lot of surprises for you, Duncan MacLeod."

"You do?" Duncan regarded his lover suspiciously.

Amanda entered from the side door and glided across the room with airy grace. Her perfume preceded her, layering the air with floral undertones. "Well, there you two are. It's about time." She reached up and gave Duncan a peck on the lips, before kissing the air around Methos' cheek.

Duncan looked at her incredulously as she stood next to them in her bright red dress and matching high heels, her dark hair slicked back into a short bob, and her face beaming with mischief. "Amanda?" He managed to get her name out, hoping he didn't look as off center as he felt.

"Yes." Amanda looked between the two men and frowned. "Is he all right?" she asked Methos while nodding her head delicately in Duncan's direction.

"Um--" Methos made an exaggerated show of looking over his lover carefully. "Yeah, I think so."

Duncan felt himself flush and was about to retort when Father Luther entered the room from the same door and walked towards them quickly.

"Well, there you are," he gushed once he reached them. He extended his hand to both Duncan and Methos to shake, a large smile decorating his freckled face.

"That's what I said." Amanda pouted.

Duncan looked from his lover to his two friends and sighed. _What the hell was going on here?_ The last time he had seen Father Luther was over a month ago when Duncan had met with him at the rectory. Father Luther was an immortal, like himself. Unlike him, however, and unlike Father Luther's teacher, Darius, he had been a priest before his first death. He was the one immortal that Duncan knew for certain had never raised a blade against another of their kind.

He liked the gentle man who had died at the very early age of twenty eight. Like all of them, Father Luther still retained the youthful looks he had at his first death. In his case that meant he would forever have the same fiery red hair that curled all over his head, along with the bright blue eyes, pudgy nose and freckled face that glowed when he smiled, displaying deep dimples in each cheek. He had an endearing habit of swinging his hands around wildly when he talked, which he was doing now as he apprised the two men and Amanda of their plans.

"Everyone is waiting. I know you two are probably in a hurry to get started, but I'd really like to talk to you first, if you don't mind." Father Luther looked at them expectantly as he finished, waving his hand so closely to Duncan's face that he had to jerk his head out of the way to keep from getting backhanded.

He heard Methos snigger beside him and smiled. "I think that's a good idea, Father." He glared at Methos before turning to Amanda. "Amanda, give us a few minutes."

She looked from him to Methos and Father Luther, and shrugged. "All right. But hurry. Everyone's waiting." She smiled and kissed them both on the cheek before turning on her heels and flitting back out the door.

"Father, let's sit down." Duncan motioned towards the small lobby which was still blissfully unoccupied.

"Of course, Duncan."

They all sat down, but before Duncan could utter a word, the priest had already started talking excitedly, while his hands fairly danced in the air. "I have to tell you both, I'm greatly honored by your request for me to perform the ceremony. Duncan, I've known you a long time, and I know Darius always respected you. So even though my Church doesn't recognize your union any more than the state does, I know our Father will bless you and Adam both."

Duncan waited until Father Luther's hands settled on his lap before talking. "Do immortals receive blessings, Father?"

"Yes, I believe they do. As did Darius." Father Luther looked him squarely in the eyes.

Methos took Duncan's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He looked at his lover gratefully before continuing. "I have to admit, Father Luther, I'm a bit surprised. When I came to you a while ago to discuss a ceremony, you seemed a little reserved about the idea."

"Duncan." Father Luther grinned widely and flashed his dimples. "When you came to me before, I was concerned because you had not spoken to Adam about the ceremony yet. You, yourself, seemed quite concerned with the details and what you thought Adam may or may not want from the ceremony. I couldn't begin to minister to your needs at that point. But, now Adam has come to me and we have worked out all the details. In fact, he chose the ceremony that you had specifically requested. I think you will be very pleased and I couldn't be happier."

"He did?" Duncan turned to his partner who shrugged innocently and looked away.

"Of course," the Father continued to gush. "Now, I think we're ready to get started. Everything is set up in the garden. Just let me know when you're ready to begin."

They all stood up and Duncan extended his hand which Father Luther took warmly. "We'll just be a moment, Father." He watched the priest walk away and called after him. "And, thank you."

Father Luther kept walking, but turned slightly to flash them a huge smile and wave the gratitude away with his hand.

Duncan turned to Methos and crossed his arms over his chest. "Is this what I think it is?"

Methos looked up at him from under thick lashes. "Do you want it to be?" he asked shyly.

"What if I had said no?"

Methos shrugged. "Then we go out, tell everyone there's been a slight change of plans and have us one hell of a party."

"And what about us?"

"That's up to you, Duncan. I'm here as long as you want me."

Duncan looked into his face, saw the love and concern reflected there and smiled. "I am too, love. The phone call I heard you make?"

"Oh." Methos chuckled. "I was calling Joe to let him know to go ahead as planned."

"Joe's here?"

"Of course. He has to be here if he's going to record it in your chronicles, Mac."

"Methos--" Duncan growled and chased his lover out the door into the garden.

~~~~~~

Duncan looked out through the garden, into the clearing and saw his friends. Amanda had taken a seat next to Nick Wolfe, who was dressed out in a charcoal gray suit and red tie that matched Amanda's dress. Next to him sat Grace Chandell, his and Darius' old friend from Paris. Richie was there, dressed in casual slacks and a blue top, his own carrot colored hair glistening in the sun. Connor was walking around the perimeter, scouting for trouble, Duncan presumed, and he smiled at the look of serious intent on his kinsman's face.

At least Connor had dressed up, wearing a dark suit and tie. But, his dark long coat stayed firmly on his body, which kept his sword at ready hand.

A makeshift altar covered with a white silk drape had been placed in front and away from the seats. Six strips of MacLeod tartan lay across the altar. Duncan turned towards Methos and quirked a brow in question. Methos looked back, smiled coyly, and shrugged.

Joe was sitting in a chair next to the altar, his guitar by his side.

When they approached, Father Luther immediately flew to their side and escorted them in front of the altar. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Regarding one another with and nod and a smile, Duncan and Methos agreed they were.

"Good, let's begin then." Father Luther swerved quickly towards the altar, which brought his hand into solid contact with Methos' nose.

Duncan saw Father Luther's hand make contact, and cringed when Methos yelped loudly and grabbed his nose.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Father Luther gushed while attempting to look at the offended appendage.

Methos swatted his hands away. "It's all right, Father."

"Yeah, it's not your fault," Duncan assured him seriously. He saw Methos glare at him, and he laughed and leaned towards his lover. "Well, you have to admit, it is an easy target."

"Ha, ha." Methos continued to glare until Duncan reached over and placed a kiss on the tip of Methos' nose.

"I'll make it up to you later."

Duncan felt a timid hand on his back and turned to see Grace standing behind him. She was a slight woman, with brown hair that flowed down to her shoulders and an easy smile that spoke of her gentleness.

"Duncan." She stood on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm so happy for you both."

"Thank you, Grace." He took her hand and walked her back to her seat. "I think we're getting started. We'll talk after the ceremony. You're not leaving soon are you?"

"Of course not. We'll catch up."

He walked back to his lover's side as Father Luther called them all to begin.

~~~~~~

Father Luther stood in front of the altar and faced the two men. He began to speak, his voice floating across the garden in loud clear tones, while his hands flashed expressively in the air.

_"Know now before you go further, that since your lives have crossed in this life you have formed ties between one another. As you seek to enter this state of matrimony you should strive to make real, the ideals which give meaning to both this ceremony and the institution of marriage."_

He looked out past the men to their guests and raised his hands in invitation. All the guests rose and walked to a separate corner of the garden, each facing a different direction. Duncan turned and watched as Connor faced towards the North, while Richie turned towards the South. Nick and Amanda faced the East, and Joe and Grace stood facing the West.

Satisfied, Father Luther turned back to Duncan and Methos.

_"With full awareness, know that within this circle you are not only declaring your intent to be handfasted before your friends and family, but you speak that intent also to your creative higher powers._

_The promises made today and the ties that are bound here greatly strengthen your union; they will cross the years and lives of each soul's growth._

_Do you still seek to enter this ceremony?_

Duncan looked into Methos' eyes and they answered together. "Yes. We seek to enter."

_"In times past it was believed that the human soul shared characteristics with all things divine. It is this belief which assigned virtues to the cardinal directions; East, South, West and North. It is in this tradition that a blessing is offered in support of this ceremony._

_Blessed be this union with the gifts of the East. Communication of the heart, mind, and body. Fresh beginnings with the rising of each Sun. The knowledge of the growth found in the sharing of silences._

_Blessed be this union with the gifts of the South. Warmth of hearth and home. The heat of the heart's passion. The light created by both to lighten the darkest of times._

_Blessed be this union with the gifts of the West. The deep commitments of the lake. The swift excitement of the river. The refreshing cleansing of the rain. The all encompassing passion of the sea._

_Blessed be this union with gifts of the North. Firm foundation on which to build. Fertility of the fields to enrich your lives. A stable home to which you may always return._

_Each of these blessings from the four cardinal directions emphasizes those things which will help you build a happy and successful union. Yet they are only tools. Tools which you must use together in order to create what you seek in this union."_

He stopped and motioned for their guests to be seated. Once everyone was back in his or her seats, he addressed Duncan and Methos.

_"I bid you look into each other's eyes."_

They turned towards one another.

_"Duncan, will you cause him pain?"_

"I may."

_"Is that your intent?"_

"No."

_"Adam, will you cause him pain?"_

"I may."

_"Is that your intent?"_

"No."

Father Luther spoke to them both. _"Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?"_

Their voices joined in unison. "Yes."

_"And so the binding is made. Join your hands."_

Duncan took Methos' left hand in his own while Father Luther turned and picked up a strip of tartan. He turned towards them and draped the cloth across their joined hands and wrists.

_"Duncan, will you share his laughter?"_

"Yes."

_"Adam, will you share his laughter?"_

"Yes."

Father Luther looked at them both. _"Will both of you look for brightness in life and the positive in each other?"_

"Yes," they answered jointly.

_"And so the binding is made."_ He draped a second strip of tartan across their wrists.

_"Duncan, will you burden him?"_

"I may."

_"Is that your intent?"_

"No."

_"Adam, will you burden him?"_

"I may."

_"Is that your intent?"_

"No."

He looked at them both. _"Will you share the burdens of each so that your spirits may grow in this union?"_

"Yes."

_"And so the binding is made."_ He stepped away and retrieved the third strip of MacLeod tartan and draped it across their wrists.

_"Duncan, will you share his dreams?"_

"Yes."

_"Adam, will you share his dreams?"_

"Yes."

To both of them, he spoke. _"Will you dream together to create new realities and hopes?"_

"Yes."

_"And so the binding is made."_ He draped the fourth strip of tartan across their wrists.

_"Duncan, will you cause him anger?"_

"I may."

_"Is that your intent?"_

"No."

_"Adam, will you cause him anger?"_

"I may."

_"Is that your intent?"_

"No."

To both of them. _"Will you take the heat of anger and use it to temper the strength of this union?"_

"We will," they spoke together.

_"And so the binding is made."_ He draped the fifth tartan around their wrists.

_"Duncan, will you honor him?"_

"I will."

_"Adam, will you honor him?"_

"I will."

To them both, _"Will you seek to never give cause to break that honor?"_

"We shall never do so."

_"And so the binding is made."_ He draped the sixth and final strip of tartan around their wrists.

He began to tie the strips together loosely around their joined hands and wrists.

_"The knots of this binding are not formed by these chords but instead by your vows. Either of you may drop the chords, for as always, you hold in your own hands the making or breaking of this union."_

He slipped the bound tartan from their wrists and hands and placed it on the altar.

Next to them, the strums of Joe's guitar slipped through the air in a sweet melody.

Duncan took Methos' face between his hands and kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you."

~~~~~~

Duncan turned and surveyed his friends as they finished off the last of the catered dinner. The champagne was still flowing freely, and he could tell that Amanda had become tipsy by the way she was giggling and holding onto Nick's arm. Connor wasn't drinking, instead choosing to keep a steady vigil for his family's safety. Connor walked towards him and Duncan held out his arms in welcome.

Connor smiled as he neared and walked into the hug. "Congratulations, kinsman."

"Connor, you could have warned me about this," he groused half-heartedly.

"What?" Connor laughed. "And spoil all the fun?"

Richie walked up and joined into the conversation. "Mac, I can't believe you finally did it. Went and took the plunge."

Duncan looked at his student's smiling face and grinned back. "Yeah, now it's your turn. What do you think, Connor?" Duncan turned towards Connor MacLeod. "I'm sure there's some nice healthy lady we can set him up with. Would be just the thing to keep him out of trouble."

Connor laughed dryly. "I don't know anyone, Duncan. You always got all the best women."

"Yeah, and look what he ended up with," Joe informed them gruffly as he stepped up behind Duncan.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Duncan. Not really your usual type." Connor told him with mock seriousness.

"Yeah, snarky, argumentative--" Richie added cheerfully.

"Contrary," Joe agreed.

"And male. Don't forget male, Joe," Richie added after he popped another bite of food into his mouth.

Duncan looked out across the garden and spotted Methos talking to Father Luther and Grace. He beamed with pride when the other man caught his eye and grinned widely. "Handsome, intelligent, generous--"

He laughed when he was cut off by a litany of male groans.

~~~~~~

They entered their room together, both drunk from the champagne and disgustingly happy.

"So tell me again how you set this all up," Duncan requested as he carefully put away their bound MacLeod tartan.

"It was easy, Duncan. I bought this inn back when I first came to Seacouver. It was a good deal, and you can always use real estate, mind you. I stay here occasionally, or at least I used to before we became an item. When I decided to do this, I made sure we didn't accept any reservations and the ones we already had, I refunded or offered a cut rate at a later time for their inconvenience."

"Costly, wasn't it?" Duncan asked curiously as he removed his shoes and socks.

"Not really. Most everyone didn't mind. And, besides, it was worth it to be able to have the entire place to ourselves and not have to worry about other guests seeing us. Amanda and Nick arrived last night and I put them up in a room on the first floor. Grace just came in for the day. Connor just arrived, but I offered him a room on the first floor as well for as long as he wants to stay."

"So we have the entire floor to ourselves?" Duncan waggled his brows suggestively.

"Not exactly." Methos smirked. "The room next to ours belongs to Joe. I had it outfitted for him last year with a special shower and closets so he can get around easily when he stays here. Don't worry, Mac. We just got married. He expects us to get hot and heavy."

Duncan started to protest when he saw Methos jump on the bed and grab hold of two of the still intact wooden bars on the bed's headboard. "Methos, what are you doing?"

"Just giving Joe what he expects," Methos informed him with a smirk.

Then Duncan watched in disbelief as Methos began bouncing up and down on the bed, pushing against the headboard with his entire body. "Oh, Duncan. Harder. Faster. Oh, GOD, YES!!" Methos yelled out loudly while the bed slammed against the wall.

Duncan stood at the foot of the bed, his mouth gaped open in shock until he heard a pounding coming from the other side of the wall. "Hey, knock it off you two. Sheesh." Joe's disgruntled voice bellowed through the walls.

Methos stopped what he was doing and flopped down on the bed into a fit of laughter.

He was still laughing when Duncan joined him on the bed and covered him with his body. "Brat, stop that."

"Why? Gonna beat me again, Mac?" He pressed his hips against Mac's groin as he tried to stifle his laughter.

"I should," Duncan growled playfully. Another press of Methos' hips, and all coherent thought left his mind, as he decided to kiss his lover into silence instead.

_finis_   



End file.
